


State of Readiness

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [47]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 03:43:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15743544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: In Jared’s defence —Okay, Jared has no defence. Jared only has mortified terror.





	State of Readiness

In Jared’s defence —

Okay, Jared has no defence. Jared only has mortified terror.

He wakes up to a text from Bryce already waiting for him, _ur coming over tonite rite?_

 _I was planning on it, yeah_ , Jared texts back before he’s even fully awake. Honestly, he’s usually there after training, so he’s not sure why Bryce is asking, especially this early.

 _wear sumthin nice!_ , Bryce has texted when Jared gets out of the shower, and Jared blinks, wondering if that’s like, a secretly coded ‘wear my jersey again please’, or Bryce wants to go out for dinner, or —

Oh fuck.

Oh _fuck_.

It’s not that Jared didn’t know their one year was coming up? It’s just — he’s been kind of distracted and busy. The Western Prospects camp of last year was replaced by, well — actually technically Western Prospects, if you replace Western with Oilers and beautiful Calgary with stupid Edmonton. Unlike camp last year, there wasn’t anyone as nice as Raf, or anywhere near as hot as Bryce. Not that Jared was really scoping out his fellow prospects for friends or boyfriends. He’s set, thanks.

It was kind of a mindfuck, being there, because he was doing his best — he’s incapable of doing otherwise — but he was torn between hopeful and petrified that his best would get him noticed, would mean they’d be paying attention at training camp, might mean he ends up on the roster come October.

Mixed blessing, he guesses, that the Oilers prospects are actually a pretty good bunch. That’s not surprising — the worse your team is, the better the prospects, inevitably, and if they use them right, they might actually have a team worth something in the next five years. 

Jared still doesn’t know how he feels about that. Rearranging your entire brain to fit the concept that you are now the enemy is mentally exhausting. Still, that’s really not an excuse for totally forgetting their anniversary, especially since Bryce is, you know, Bryce, so he _definitely_ would never forget.

Jared continues to be an incredibly shitty boyfriend, and he needs to fix that. More of the verbal filter and white lies and supportive comments and _remembering his anniversary_ , pronto, because seriously: Bryce is a newly minted multi-millionaire who plays hockey so beautiful it makes Jared want to cry, is _stupid_ hot, and is also probably the sweetest, most attentive boyfriend anyone in the world could have. And then there’s Jared. A couple hundred bucks in the bank he’ll only touch in an emergency, not sure if he’s going to be in the WHL, the AHL, or the NHL this season, and constantly accidentally insults his boyfriend to his (gorgeous) face.

He’s got to start being someone who actually deserves Bryce, and he’s starting now. He’s like — shit, what does he get last minute? Flowers and chocolate are way out, they’re set on sex toys right now. Jared could cook, maybe? Except Bryce kind of implied they were going out for dinner, so —

If they’re like, doing it tonight, you know, the whole ‘I want to make it special’ deed — and like, as ‘special’ goes, your first anniversary probably qualifies — 

Jared, sex is not a present. Like, at all. Satisfying and intimate moment or whatever the fuck. Not what you get your boyfriend for your anniversary, especially since it’s something he could have any fucking time he wants it, pretty much.

Jared frantically thinks up and discards about a hundred stupid ideas, and then hits a wall and gives up. Jared is _not_ starting the being a good thoughtful boyfriend this moment, apparently, because he needs outside intervention, he thinks. He runs downstairs, hoping his mom is home, and lucks out, because she hasn’t left for work yet, drinking coffee and watching the news.

“Help, I forgot it was my anniversary,” Jared says all in a rush, because desperate times call for desperate measures, and he’s willing to humiliate himself if she can advise him a way out of this mess.

“It’s today?” she asks, then, bafflingly, “Ah,” like that explains something. Jared doesn’t have time to worry about it, considering the whole being totally fucked thing.

“And I didn’t get him anything and I don’t know what to do and I’ve got to be at the gym in like—”

“Breathe,” she says.

Jared tries to.

“Why don’t you get him a card?” his mom asks. “Write what he means to you.”

“A _card_?” Jared says. “It’s my anniversary, not my grandma’s seventy-fifth birthday. I can’t get him a _card_.”

“I’m trying to help, Jared,” she says. “If you’re going to be snotty about it you can deal with it yourself.”

“Sorry,” Jared mumbles; just because her first suggestion sucked doesn’t mean she won’t hit on a good one eventually.

Speaking of: there _is_ one thing that he can offer, if he gets permission, and that’s like — himself. Not in the pervy way — though maybe also in the pervy way — but a whole night together is something they’ve only had once before.

“Can I stay over at Bryce’s tonight?” Jared asks.

She frowns a little.

“Eighteen,” Jared says. “No school tomorrow, or like, ever again, and it’s a designated day off from training. I’m not supposed to do anything more strenuous than like, maybe jog a few clicks.”

“Okay,” she says. “Call—”

“At curfew?” Jared says. “Okay.”

“Jared?” she says. “If he asks you something — be realistic, okay?”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Jared asks.

“Nothing,” she says. “Just keep it in mind.”

“Okay, I’ll totally keep that nothing in mind, thanks for being super cryptic,” Jared says. “Present ideas now? I’ve kind of got a deadline here.”

She rolls her eyes. “Why don’t you look up which anniversary it is?” she asks.

“It’s…our first,” Jared says. “Obviously.”

“Yes,” she says. “But every anniversary you’re supposed to get your partner something different. See what the first anniversary is. I have to get to work.”

Jared looks it up over breakfast. Apparently it’s paper. Jared suspects his mom actually knew that, and just said it because it’s another way of suggesting a card.

 _Rude_ , he texts her.

The smiley she sends back confirms she was 100% trolling him. Uncool.

*

Jared thinks about what to get Bryce all through his workouts that day, but he’s kind of at a loss, so he does end up grabbing a card on the way to Bryce’s, because like, if he’s supposed to be doing the supportive boyfriend thing going forward, maybe a bunch of gross feelings are…good? Plus it’s easier to get it out on paper, chewing on the cap of his pen as he writes out shit he wouldn’t be able to say without a stammer and all the blood in his body rushing to his face.

Well, the blood’s definitely in his face as he writes it. Jared is very, very tempted to throw the damn thing out, because reading it over is just — mortifying, it’s like he splashed every single feeling he has for Bryce all over the page, and there are a _lot_ of them, and they are _big_ , but — Bryce deserves to hear it, so.

He shoves it into the envelope before he can change his mind.

“I didn’t get you anything,” Bryce says the second Jared walks in the door.

Jared blinks.

“I was going to um,” Bryce says. “I was going to get you something but you told me to chill on the presents and like, you seemed to mean it?”

“I did,” Jared says, a little surprised Bryce actually listened to him on that. It’s kind of like a present all by itself, especially because Jared would have felt especially shitty if Bryce got him something nice and all Jared had to offer was a stupid, embarrassing card. 

“It’s okay if I take you out for dinner, though, right?” Bryce asks. “It’s nothing like, too fancy, just like—”

Jared looks Bryce over, because he’s wearing a dress shirt and slacks. As is Jared: he listened when Bryce told him to wear something nice.

“Okay, it’s a _little_ fancy,” Bryce says. “But like, drinks after work fancy, not crazy or anything.”

It’s thirty dollar steak fancy instead of sixty dollar steak fancy, as far as the fancy scale goes, which is a relief. Not that Jared gets a steak, because it’s stupid hot outside. Grilled chicken salads for them both, before they escape back to Bryce’s blessedly air conditioned apartment and Jared no longer has an excuse to let the card burn a hole in his pocket. 

“I um,” Jared says. “This is really lame? But apparently your first anniversary is like, paper, and I kind of suck at, you know, saying shit without messing it up, so, um. I got you a card? And. Wrote in it.”

 _Obviously_ , Jared. No, he thought you got a fucking blank one.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” Jared says, when Bryce starts to open the envelope, because he can’t bring himself to watch Bryce read it.

“Hey, no,” Bryce says. “C’mon.” He hooks his ankle around Jared’s, and Jared suffers in silence, trying to sink into the couch and disappear. It would be immature and ridiculous to cover his face right now, so Jared endures Bryce looking up from the card to see his beet red face.

“C’mere,” Bryce says, and Jared’s happy to, because that means he can hide his face in Bryce’s throat, and no one has to see his incredibly accurate impression of a tomato.

“Love you too,” Bryce says. “Even though you called me a douche twice in there.”

“I said you _seemed_ like a douche when I met you,” Jared says. “And like, I hate to admit when I’m wrong—”

“No, really?” Bryce says, smiling against his temple.

“Hey,” Jared says, then, “But obviously I was wrong. And I’m really glad I was wrong and didn’t like, refuse to see that. Because I would have missed out on how fucking awesome you are, so.”

“You know,” Bryce says. “You claim you mess it up when you say things out loud, but you’re doing pretty good right now.”

“I’ll quit while I’m ahead, then,” Jared says.

“No, keep going,” Bryce complains. “I like it.”

“Of course you like it, it’s an ego handjob,” Jared says.

“All your handjobs are goood handjobs,” Bryce says agreeably.

“Thanks,” Jared says. “Sorry it isn’t anything, like — sorry it’s just a card.”

“It’s perfect,” Bryce says, and Jared’s skin must be burning hot under the kiss Bryce plants against his cheek.

Speaking of handjobs, ego or otherwise, they end up in bed sooner rather than later, because it’s their anniversary, and Jared doesn’t have to leave, and, honestly, because they’re them and they usually end up in bed sooner rather than later. Jared will endure the horny teenager stereotype if he needs to. His boyfriend’s hot and sex is awesome, who could blame him for getting on that whenever he can?

Jared pulls away as Bryce’s fingers start sneaking toward his belt. “Did you want to—” Jared says, before things get too heated and out of hand and they just end up doing whatever comes to mind. Not that he has a problem with that, like, at all, but anniversary, and like — spilling his guts on paper and then letting Bryce inside seems kind of like the special Bryce wanted, even if there aren’t any candles or rose petals or anything. “Did you want to like—”

Jared Matheson, if you can’t say it, you can’t do it.

“Did you want to fuck me?” Jared asks. “Doesn’t get much more special than like, an anniversary. And I don’t have any training tomorrow or anything. No hockey, obviously.”

“Yeah,” Bryce says, but not like, enthusiastically.

Jared frowns.

“We really don’t have to —” Jared says, then, “If you don’t want to, I don’t mean to—”

“I do,” Bryce says. “Like, so much.”

“So what’s the problem?” Jared says.

“I just — don’t want to fuck it up, I guess,” Bryce says.

“Bryce,” Jared says. “Every single thing we do you blow the learning curve out of the water, it’s not really something you should be worried about.”

Bryce blows out a breath. “I guess, I just — you know I—”

Bryce’s hands aren’t on Jared anymore, instead balled in loose fists, and Jared pokes one until it uncurls, twines their fingers together.

“You know I like, picked up women, right?” Bryce says. “Before I met you. Um. Like. A few times, when my teammates were really — anyway.”

“Yeah,” Jared says. Not because Bryce has told him, but. 

“I just — ” Bryce says. “Some of them like, wrote about it after, I guess? Online. I read what they said about me. About how I like. Sucked.”

Jared tries not to flinch, thinking about it now, how he’d read through those and taken vicious satisfaction at the time that Bryce’s hookups thought he sucked in bed. Now he just feels sick thinking about Bryce forcing himself to have sex with people he wasn’t even interested in just to portray the image of some straight dude, those people being shitty enough to tell everyone how it was.

“I mean, I’ve only ever had sex with you,” Jared says. “So I don’t know this firsthand or anything, but like, maybe part of that was because you weren’t actually, you know, attracted to them? Because as someone who is crazy attracted to you, and is pretty damn sure that’s mutual, we have some kickass sex.”

“We do,” Bryce says. “I just — what if I do suck at it and you just, like, try to be nice about it and are stuck dealing with that?”

“Bryce,” Jared says. “Seriously? Have I ever once, in the entire year we’ve been together, _not_ run my mouth with whatever comes to my head?”

“Well,” Bryce says. “I’m sure—”

“Rhetorical question, you know I’m not going to hesitate to tell you if you’re doing something I don’t like,” Jared says. “And then we could work on it. You know I wouldn’t judge you for any of that, right?”

“I know,” Bryce says, “I’m just—”

“Not ready,” Jared says, because Bryce looks visibly uncomfortable, and Jared hates it.

“Sorry,” Bryce mumbles. “I know it’s like, pathetic, but—”

“It’s not pathetic,” Jared says. “And seriously, not necessary to our sex life if you don’t want it. I don’t want you to do shit you’re uncomfortable with. Just because it’s something other people do doesn’t mean it has to be something we do, you know that, right? There isn’t like, a checklist of shit you have to do in bed to get a badge or something.”

“Yeah,” Bryce says, not sounding all that convinced.

“Like,” Jared says. “If you ever feel like you want to do it, let me know? And I won’t ask or anything unless you bring it up. I don’t want to pressure you.”

“You’re not,” Bryce says. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It’s stupid to apologise for this,” Jared says. “Did you want to — we could just, I dunno — did you kind of want to reset, and I can blow you or something, or—”

“Can we just, like, do nothing right now?” Bryce asks. “I mean — just like — hang out in bed and like—”

“Cuddle?” Jared asks.

“That’s such a stupid word,” Bryce mumbles, but it’s not a no, and Jared can do that. He pulls Bryce in by the shirt until he gives in, rests his head on Jared’s shoulder.

“We can do whatever,” Jared says. “We’ve got the whole night. And if you want to cuddle all night, that’s cool with me.”

“I really hate that word,” Bryce says into Jared’s shirt, while simultaneously cuddling the shit out of him.

“Cuddle, cuddle, cuddle,” Jared says, and Bryce pinches him and then cuddles even closer.

“Sorry,” Bryce mumbles.

“Dude, if you don’t stop apologising for this I’m going to get mad at you,” Jared says. 

“I don’t want you to think I don’t want to, or like, don’t want you,” Bryce continues, thankfully without another apology. 

“I don’t think that,” Jared says.

“Good,” Bryce says, “Because I want like — it kind of scares the shit out of me how much I want you, like, all the time? People say it cools off over time or whatever, but it — it really hasn’t. And I don’t mean physically? Like, obviously I mean physically too, but it’s just — it never seems to be enough? Like, I just — you could like, go to the fucking bathroom and I’d miss you until you came back and it’s crazy. I dunno if that made any sense or I’m just like, spewing shit right now.”

“I get it,” Jared says. “You know it’s pretty mutual, right?”

“Yeah?” Bryce asks.

“Yeah,” Jared says. “And I can’t believe you just outdid my fucking card for you without like, even trying. Thanks, asshole.”

“You’re welcome,” Bryce says, and when Jared nudges his chin up to kiss him, he’s grinning that painfully gorgeous grin Jared can never get enough of.


End file.
